Wednesday, February 3, 2010

A Valentine Story.

For me, February is full of so many sentimental memories. Of course, there is Valentines Day but it is also the anniversary of when I first met my husband. That story is charming by itself; however, it is the telling of the story, years later, to my daughter, that is the real story for today.

One day, the three of us were driving home from a wedding, myself, my husband, and our daughter. She had just turned 6. It had been a beautiful affair, the bride and groom had shared how they first met and everyone cried. That had prompted my daughter to ask how her mommy and daddy had met. I was glad to respond.

I had been a student in college. I was there on all scholarships and as such made my academics my top priority lest my GPA slip and possibly forfeit any funding. It made dating a little hard. The guys felt I put making the Dean's list before them, and frankly under the circumstances, I did.

Then one day, I was asked out for a date by a friend's new roommate. It was for Valentines Day. I was interested, very; but it was right before a major do or die exam. I had to decline, but politely explained and suggested perhaps another time. I wasn't prepared for what followed. Since I was too busy to go out, he would bring the food to me. I assumed something takeout and not the steak and lobster that greeted me when I answered the door. He was going to cook me supper and had brought both as he wasn't sure which I would prefer.

As part of the meal, there were also potatoes, and would I like baked or mashed? My favorite is mashed with tons of butter, but my girlfriends and I did not own a potato masher. Unfazed, my date responded with "It's okay, I have one in my car." Indeed he did. It had fallen out of a box of kitchen wares into his trunk during his recent move to my friend's apartment. He hadn't taken the time to retrieve it from his car, until that night. The meal was fabulous. I was able to study for my test, and my date even did the dishes and cleaned up the kitchen, better than my girlfriends and I had ever done.

I graduated with honors from College. My date became my husband. I got a job. We bought a house. We became parents. End of story.

After a moment of reflecting upon the tale of how her mommy and daddy had met, Elizabeth leaned forward from the back seat and looking thoughtfully at me said "Oh you married daddy because he could mash your potatoes!" Isn't love grand.

I call this photo "A Valentine's Toast with potato masher and cherub."

8 comments:

Bonjour Sherrie,Wow what a story - your husband is a dream -steak and lobster? He wasn taking any chances, he was determined to get the girl who stole his heart. Your daughter's summary was a classic. Thanks for sharing this with us.By the way, you blog really looks great!

What a great story- so much more romantic than some- Does he still cook you a fantastic Valentine's dinner? My husband also is a great cook and cooks most of the meals in our home. For awhile, he took up Chinese cooking and we enjoyed many delicious meals of Asian cuisine. He still cooks the odd dish from those recipes but its been awhile- perhaps I will make a request for some of those dishes HMMMMMMMRegards from a Western Canadian quilter,Anna

I love that you are a hopeless romantic :) Your blog is adorable and I love your sweet story of how you met your husband. Aren't kids great! Oh, and if there was a way to send you that pink cupcake...it would be yours! (my butt is getting bigger by the minute!)

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